


Letters

by PyrophobicDragon



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Epistolary, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 10:16:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PyrophobicDragon/pseuds/PyrophobicDragon
Summary: Four birthdays pass between then and now.





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mintables](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintables/gifts).



> Happy birthday!

_An unsent letter, retrieved from underneath a bed in Embla:_

 

11th of Winter, year 353

 

My dear Alfonse, (am I even allowed to call you that anymore?)

 

It has been five months, one week, and a day since I last saw you, that morning before the skirmish.

 

Today is your first birthday in five years that you will celebrate without me.

 

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there--your 18th birthday is the age of majority in Askr, is it not? If I was there, I would treat you special on this day. Done something nice for you.

 

I suppose I did do something nice for you--I didn’t kill you.

 

Please excuse my absurd humor. I have been feeling quite--wry, I suppose, ever since I left you. Then again, you don’t need to excuse me. You will likely never see this letter. No one ever will. In fact, I may end up burning this; it wouldn’t do for a servant to find it and get it to Veronica, she will ask questions and things might get messy.

 

But seeing your name on the page, imagining that you might be reading this...it offers me a strange amount of comfort. Perhaps I will hide it someplace instead.

 

Veronica is my younger sister, by the way. Daughter of my father, who thankfully--the old rat--died some time ago. She is much like the other Emblians--that is, constantly haunted by the dark god, unaware that there is life beyond his damning influence.

 

She is still childish, besides her bloodthirst. It is charming, so I try to humor her. She is desperately lonely, too. I have--sympathy for her.

 

I suppose I ought to explain the dark god to you. But I don’t want to think of it, so I will pretend that you already know all about it and move on. But I will mention--you blessed me, and you damned me. Thanks to you, and thanks to my mother, I know what it the world is like beyond the sickness that plagues Embla. But there is bliss in ignorance that I cannot have.

 

I’m sorry for being maudlin. It is your birthday. I do not want you to feel sad on your birthday.

 

Your birthday is an auspicious day--a beautiful double-digit number. Embla loves repeating numbers; it is supposed to be a lucky sign. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that. I’m sure I must have, even if only in the context of “the place I’m from.” (If we ever see each other again, I must apologize for lying about my birthplace.) Winter, too, is also a wonderful time to be born in--not sweltering hot like the summer, not flooded like the fall. In Embla, they say that children born in Winter are pure of heart and soul, clear-minded and just. Quite fitting for you, I say.

 

It is a beautiful day, your birthday, and one that I will miss dearly. It is a blessed day, the day that the world--and I--were graced by your existence. Do thank your mother and father for me. Did you ever realize that every year, on your birthday, I went to the king and queen and thanked them for you? Perhaps the queen will tell you, now that I am not around to do it anymore.

 

I wonder what foods you are eating today for your birthday celebration. Cook has no doubt outdone himself yet again. My favorite birthday meal was probably the one where he stuffed eggs inside of a chicken inside of a turkey inside of a hog. Sharena ate so much she became sick! One thing that I did not like about Askr was the lack of meat in your diet, so that was a lovely treat for me that year.

 

I can almost see you putting that worried expression on. Don’t fear for my health or tongue; I developed quite an adoration of all the amazing ways Cook prepared fishes. Even now I still occasionally crave that lemon-herb grilled fish he does. ~~Going to the Emblian kitchens and ordering a pound of braised pig’s trotters only makes me more homesick~~

 

I said I didn’t want to make you sad. But if I write anymore, I will start writing about how much I miss Askr--and how much I miss Sharena, Anna, and especially you. So I will end my letter here.

 

I will not write again for some time. It will do me no good to fall into this habit. I only wanted to wish you a happy birthday, even if you will never hear it.

 

Happy birthday. I love you with all of my heart.

 

I wish I had told you. But at the same time, ignorance is bliss, so I’m glad I didn’t.

 

But now, I really must take my leave of you.

 

Ever yours,

 

Zacharias

  
  
***  
  


_A letter, retrieved from a bundle stashed away in a desk drawer in Askr. Despite the fine quality and the gold-rimmed edge, the paper is wrinkled and the ink is smudged in some places._

 

22nd of Midsummer, year 354

 

Dear Zacharias,

 

~~I~~

 

~~Where~~

 

~~Why~~

 

I hope this letter finds you well, wherever you are. I hope you found your way home and are living happily.

 

Today is your birthday. You are not here to celebrate with us. We didn’t hold a feast for you, or bake you a cake. It passed like any other day, except I spent it in my room.

 

I didn’t feel like going outside and facing their pity.

 

It’s awfully churlish of me, I know. I should be more grateful. Sharena has done so much to try and take my mind off of things. But I know she probably has some grand plan to try and help me forget about the fact that it’s your birthday, but I don’t want to forget. I want to take this day and think of you--as if I don’t every day already.

 

You are twenty, correct? I’m eighteen now. I have reached my majority, and am now an adult. It’s strange. I feel no more grown up than I did before. ~~I still pine like a lovesick teenager and worry like a parent~~

 

The Midsummer heat is sweltering now. I miss the way you would laugh at us as we lay about, complaining about the weather. You never were bothered, you oaf. It’s probably very hot in your world right now, wherever you are. I would love to visit, but I would wilt under the heat.

 

I hope you’re having fun on your birthday. I hope you’re doing something that makes you happy, with your family or people who care for you ~~as much as I do, as impossible as that is~~ . I wonder if you miss us? I know I miss you dearly. ~~I love you~~   ~~I loved you~~

 

~~I wonder if I’ll see you again~~

 

~~I wonder if you’re even alive~~

 

Sharena is doing excellently with her lance; I think she might have surpassed even you! She is certainly better than me. Her new goal, in lieu of her previous to best you in battle one day, is to be able to defeat Commander Anna. To that, I say good luck.

 

On my birthday, I received and began to wield Folkvangar. I practice with it almost every day now. It fits perfectly in my hand, and it glows like a soft white flame when I touch it, which makes me feel oddly secure ~~as if I was being hugged by you~~. I wish you would return, so you can see it, and maybe spar with me some. I hope you’d be proud of me.

 

I wrote you a shorter letter this time, so I will write you a longer one tomorrow evening to make up for it. For now, I will go to the kitchen and find something to eat, because if you were here you would yell at me for starving myself all day.

 

I’ll ask Cook to make me a small cake, and I’ll blow out a candle and think of you.

 

~~Love~~

 

Sincerely,

 

Alfonse

  
  
***  
  


_A letter, written on torn paper, accepted by shaking hands from the foot of Feh, who looks rather smug with herself._

 

Alfonse,

 

I’m sorry.

 

I just wanted to open up this letter by saying I’m sorry. For everything, for all the pain and anguish I caused you.

 

Please don’t cry, though. I wouldn’t want you to cry. After my apology, I promise to do my best to keep this letter lighthearted, because it is your birthday, and I woke up this morning to Feh cooing in my ear--how did she find me? Did someone send her, or did she come of her own regard? I suspect the latter since she had neither letter nor package for me--and since you now know my secret I can no longer resist the desire to send you birthday wishes and talk to you just a little bit. Nothing too heavy, though, I promise--even if we’re at war, you deserve to rest on your birthday. You work too hard.

 

Please tell Anna to keep you away from any duties. Allow Sharena to sit on you if she so desires.

 

In fact, take a break, please. Rest in your tent or room, read a book--and not one of those thick history tomes, one of the adventure stories you so loved--drink plenty of that sweet tea you like from one of your fancy teapots, eat gluttonously, even if you’re in an encampment. Have one of your Heroes go and fish marvelous amounts of fish from the nearest river and find a winterberry bush and strip it and eat it all. You deserve it. In fact, do that even if you’re in the castle--I know you used to get ~~adorably~~ amusingly excited about picking and eating winterberries. It’s your birthday. Do what you _want_ to do for once, not what you _must_ do.

 

You deserve only the best.

 

You are nineteen, Prince Alfonse. You have been an adult for one year. You have been wielding Folkvangar for one year--quite skillfully! I noticed during our ~~battles~~   ~~duels~~ ~~fights~~ encounters. Do tell Sharena I am proud of her, too. She is quite deadly with that lance of hers.

 

She is definitely better than me now. I have switched from the lance to the tome. ~~as I’m sure you’ve noticed when I was trying to kill you~~ I imagine you would be quite good with magic. You are skilled at anything you put your mind to. ~~If I ever return, I may start teaching you, but only because I enjoy spending time with you and would take any opportunity to do so~~ Perhaps you should endeavor to learn magic one day. I know you’re always insisting that you must “broaden your horizons” and “increase your flexibility.” It’s quite admirable of you. ~~You’re a better prince than I’ll ever be~~

 

I think I am nearly out of things to say. Well--I always have words that I want to say to you, but none of them are fitting for this letter. Some things are better left for another time, some for a better medium. Perhaps one day, I’ll be able to tell you everything I wish to say to you in person.

 

I have only a few words before I bid you farewell.

 

~~I love you~~

 

Have a happy birthday.

 

~~Love~~   ~~Ever yours~~

 

Warmest regards,

 

Zacharias ~~(Prince Bruno)~~

  
  
***  
  


Zacharias?

 

Zacharias, can you hear me?

 

He blinks, hearing a strangely familiar voice. It sounds as if Alfonse is standing right next to him, but that was impossible...

 

He sits bolt upright, glancing wildly around his tent, fear seizing his heart. Alfonse couldn’t--he shouldn’t be here. A quick glance around the tent reveals the fact that he’s alone, but that was definitely Alfonse’s voice. And while he had, admittedly, daydreamed about hearing this voice many times over the years, that was definitely coming from outside his head.

 

He quietly clears his voice and whispers, not wanting to speak too loudly lest one of his soldiers hear him, “Alfonse?”

 

“Oh! You can hear me!” Alfonse sounds surprised. Zacharias blinks.

 

“Yes, I can...but...how?”

 

“I went back to the World of Shadows and performed the rite. I’m speaking to you through a sending stone!” Now he sounds pleased with himself. Zacharias blinks, dropping the book he had been staring at, stunned. He suddenly realizes that he hasn’t heard any other greetings and hisses,

 

“Are you alone?”

 

A silence, then Alfonse mumbles, “Oh, right, I forgot you can’t see me when I nod. Yes, I’m alone.”

 

Panic seeps in. “You’re all alone? What if you get attacked? You’re a sitting duck--”

 

Alfonse replies, annoyed, “I’m fine, Zacharias, I can take care of myself.”

 

Zacharias closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. They had no plans to invade the World of Shadows anytime soon, so Alfonse undoubtedly has enough time to get out before anyone unsavory goes poking about. Plus, Alfonse can handedly take care of any opportunistic bandits. He is well-trained, intelligent, and strong. Once he has calmed himself down, he opens his eyes. “Right...yes, you can.” He adds, still a little concerned, “Is something the matter? Why did you go through that effort to speak to me?”

 

There’s a small pause. Then Alfonse confesses quietly, “I simply wanted to speak to you. It’s your birthday today, and you sent me a letter for my birthday, so I wanted to wish you a happy birthday as well.”

 

“You could have sent a letter too,” Zacharias points out.

 

Alfonse is quiet again, then sighs. “I nodded again--yes, I know. But…”

 

Zacharias understands. If he had a sending stone--and he had looked, all over--he would have tried to speak directly to Alfonse as well. He misses his voice. “I understand. I would have done the same, if I could.” He chuckles. “And I suppose I have no right to lecture you anymore, what with--”

 

Alfonse interrupts him. “Let’s not talk about that now.” He gives a small sigh, then continues. “It’s your birthday. And I want to make it a happy one.”

 

“You already have,” Zacharias hastens to assure him. “Hearing your voice...it always makes my day brighter.” He pauses, starting to blush. Perhaps that was too telling. He’s gotten so used to treasuring his love, he forgot that Alfonse didn’t know of the depth of his regards.

 

“You too. I’m glad I can speak to you directly.” Alfonse gives another small sigh, but this time one of contentment. “...What were you up to?”

 

What was he up to? He’s honestly forgotten by now. He glances at the fallen book. “I was...reading.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Zacharias hesitates a little. “Why did you ask?” he wonders aloud.

 

He can almost hear Alfonse’s blush in the silence. “I...I want to speak with you more.”

 

Zacharias turns red as well. In his self-imposed isolation in Embla, he had nearly forgotten how to hold a proper conversation with people. He suddenly feels sorry for being so blunt in response to Alfonse’s question. He doesn't want to stop the conversation either. He glances at the book again, hoping it would give him some sort of topic to speak further of. Glancing at the cover, he chuckles heartily. “I’m currently reading a penny novel I picked up somewhere. I wasn't even reading it, honestly, so I don't really know what it's about.”

 

Alfonse laughs softly. Zacharias smiles at the familiar sound. He had worried so much about forgetting those little things, but the laugh sounds exactly like the ones in his memories. “Open it up and read a page to me.”

 

Zacharias obeys, opening it randomly to the center. His eyes widen, and he has to stifle his laughter. “It's terrible. It's honestly terrible. I'm not going to subject you to this.”

 

Alfonse’s laughter comes out muffled, as if he turned away from the sending stone. “Oh, goodness, is it really so bad?”

 

“Worse than you can imagine,” Zacharias replies, flipping through the pages. The quality doesn't increase at all. He drops the book again and leans back, feeling a smile tugging on his lips. There's no feast, no cake, his only entertainment is an awful book, he is surrounded by soldiers that he doesn’t know, care about, or trust--but Alfonse’s darling voice in his ear juxtaposed with the utter lack of _anything_ desireable is enough to make this a treasured memory.

 

Alfonse is saying something, but he interrupts to ask him softly, “Can you stay?”

 

Alfonse pauses, then whispers, like a soft kiss, “Of course.”


End file.
